


The Secret Life of Riley

by PhoenixFox56



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassins, Blood and Violence, F/M, Hurt, Non-Consensual Touching, Pain, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29382885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFox56/pseuds/PhoenixFox56
Summary: Riley has a mission, assassinate the King, free Cordonia from the crown's rule. Nothing will get in her way. Until she learns the truth about the mission, about the crown, and the people who protect it.-------------There was no social seasonLiam has been King for over 1 yearLiam's father is deadRiley has lived in Cordonia her entire lifeAnd Savannah is not Drake's sister.Characters and places all belong to PixelBerry.Story belongs to me.***I did an edit to the prologue, there is more of it now. I was not happy with it and will probably do the same to the other two chapters before I continue with more.***
Relationships: Bertrand Beaumont/Savannah Walker, Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance), Olivia Nevrakis/Anton Severus
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

It was almost time. It had been years in the making, and it was finally here. She took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Light brown, almost golden eyes stared back. The two freckles in one of her eyes showing prominently. She had been anticipating this day. All of her pain and confusion after years of not knowing the truth was finally about to end. She believed in her cause. She had to; without it she would have nothing. She wouldn’t be the person she sees now without it. Even though this is not what she wanted for her life, it was how it turned out to be. When this ends, she hopes for a better future for herself. Away from all that she has become accustomed to. She will have her closure and she will have her freedom to begin anew.  


She pulls her dark brunette hair up, tightly securing it into a bun. Not a single hair could fall out of place. It all starts with her, it had to go perfect and she knew she wouldn’t fail. She never fails. This is the mission she has been training for. Everything before just an exercise to hone her skills. She ran obstacle course after obstacle course to keep in peak physical condition. Shooting ranges for an assortment of firing and throwable weapons. She learned different fighting styles and techniques. Spent hours and hours pouring over building schematics to learn of all the entrances and exits, walking paths and patterns, names and personalities. So much time, so many months and days. So many hours and minutes for this one mission. She had her team, and they had their plan. It was finally going to come to fruition.  


It was an overwhelming feeling. She gripped the sink until her knuckles turned white. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting the air slowly drift out of her mouth. Her grip loosened around the sink. Opening her eyes, she stood, squaring her shoulders. She had to get ready. She made her way to her adjoined bedroom where she had meticulously laid her clothing out on her bed. Every piece midnight black. The shadows were her ally, there to guide her to her goal. The only certainty she could rely on was the cover of the night. She pulls on her pants and a long sleeve shirt with a hood. Her shirt had a thin layer of Kevlar attached on the inside. She designed these items herself as she didn’t quite care for what the men wore. She needed something that formed to her and moved with her. It fit snug against her body providing her with much-needed maneuverability. She attached a pair of knee and elbow pads, something she did keep from the original design. Next, she dons her calf-high combat boots with a steel toe. She was glad she was rather small; it made the boots more streamlined. Sliding on a pair of thin gloves affixed with pads on the knuckles and the back of the hand. They attach seamlessly to her sleeves, giving the illusion it is all one piece. She peers over at the clock, five-thirty, almost sunset. She reaches for her final item. A simply designed mask. A mask that covers from nose to chin and wraps around covering her ears to attach to itself in the back. The mask had a mic and earpiece for easy relay and a voice modulator. She was impressed with the design when she received it. She was not expecting it to be pulled off as easily as it sounded on paper. The icing on the cake was the locking feature in the back. Only she could lock and unlock the mask. If anyone tried, they would get a warning shock to start but the intensity jumps quite a lot the second time someone tries to force it off. To say the least, she was happy with the result.  


She grabs a few throwing knives and stows them on her person. They are an easy weapon to use, even easier to conceal. She may have an obsession with them, but she blames one of her partners for that. She makes her way back to the mirror. A completely different person than before looks back. Her eyes are all that remains the same. The only reminder of who she can one day be, not what she has become. It was never supposed to be this way, yet here she is. She will make it right, for herself and everyone fighting for survival. She knows the struggle all too well. The feeling of abandonment from those who vowed to protect but instead only protect themselves. The uncertainty of surviving the day and making it to tomorrow. With not a soul in the world to trust but yourself. She had lived that life, suffered alongside those who also suffered. She was not given many opportunities in life. It almost seemed unfair, when you spend every day trying to stay alive, you are not given the chance to better yourself. So, when she was approached about a cause, a cause to better those lives, her own life. It seemed her one and only chance to better herself. She reminds herself often of why she accepted. She has to, there is no other way to live with the things she has done. She is pulled out of her train of thought by a knocking on her door. She moves to open it and finds a man standing on the other side. He is covered from head to toe in armor. His face covered completely by a mask, only his eyes visible. A semi-automatic gun held at his waist. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to. She knows why he is here. She walks past him and walks down the hall; the man follows closely behind. All doubts and fears left behind as she walks with purpose. She is ready, it is time.


	2. The Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley begins the mission. But it does not go the way she thought it would.

The palace was quiet. The sun was setting quickly behind the massive structure casting an orange glow that got darker with every passing moment. She had never been to the palace before. This moment was bittersweet as she knew she was not here for anything fancy or elegant. There were at least two guards posted at each gate. The main entrance gate, and the north and south gates. She was positive there was always four guards near both “secret” gates, reserved only for royalty to get in and out unnoticed, or in case of emergency for said royalty. Selfish and arrogant the royals are. They bring the phrase; “all for one and one for all” to a whole new level. It is the exact reason she is here now. To correct such a mentality. Getting over the wall between the gate doors was easy for her. She could do it in her sleep. The same goes for creeping through the shadows across the palace grounds. The patrolling guards were still waking up for the night shift. Only half paying attention to anything other than walking their path. It felt almost redundant to sneak. She may as well walk by with a wave. Hell, they would probably wave back.

Two more guards at the front doors to the palace. Only a single guard stationed at any other door leading in or out. Not to worry, she didn’t plan to go through any doors. She moved quickly to the south end of the palace. The front of the palace is always lit up at night. She chose a spot facing the back. It was a perfect little spot meant for the cooking staff as it led to the kitchen. But at this time the staff were cleaned up and most went to their chambers. She knew a few stragglers were about as some royal members or guests don’t go to sleep early. Though the night staff didn’t hang around the kitchen all night. With no staff outside or threatening to go outside for any reason, she had the spot all to herself. As an added bonus keeping the outside lush with greenery was a must on the palace grounds. There was no shortage of trellises up against the outside wall. The door leading in is just a delivery door for the food supplied to the palace and a little storage area for any extra kitchen wear. It leads down to a sub-level. While the actual kitchen is above that on the main floor. The only window open is a small, elongated window towards the top of the kitchen. Used for ventilation especially at this time as dinner was prepared a few hours ago. The night crew usually don’t close that window until midnight.

Quickly scaling the vine-covered trellis, she grabs onto the bottom of the window, swings her legs up and through the opening. Twisting her body to follow her legs, she dangles from the window on the inside of the kitchen. Letting go, she bends her knees and lands on the balls of her feet in complete silence. Step one complete, on to step two, locate the King. Step two is even easier. The risk of being seen in step one heightens the severity of it but only a minuscule amount seeing as she is never worried about being seen. Step two is even more simple, as to the fact of there being fewer guards. There are more outside for the sole reason of if there was an attack they must get past the grounds before entering the palace. At this time of night with most people retreating to their rooms, there really isn’t a need for all the guards. Taking into consideration she has studied the layout of the palace, knows the King usually takes care of some extra work in his study before bed, and the minimal bodies roaming the hall, this is a walk in the park.

As she makes her way to the kitchen door, she hears a faint noise. It grows louder quickly, she realizes it is someone talking. She recognizes the voice and freezes. This was not in the plan. Before she has time to hide the door swings open and as she stands face to face with Lord Beaumont.  
“Oh, shi …” That is all he gets out before her hand covers his mouth. She pushes him against the kitchen wall, quickly pulls a knife from her person, and holds it to his throat. He stands rigid, eyes wide staring back at her. She couldn’t quite tell if he was pleading with her or trying to figure out if he knew her. She didn’t care, this was not supposed to happen. Trying to get things together, she pushes up tighter against him and checks her surroundings. He makes a small, muffled wince under her hand. When she focuses back and notices she accidentally nicked him. Just then heavy footsteps could be heard making their way towards them.  
“Maxwell, I swear if you slipped and knocked yourself out, I’m leaving you on the floor.” Was said from behind the door. When the door swung open a second time she didn’t hesitate. Her knife that was resting against the young Lord's throat was flung at the new arrival, she pegs as Drake Walker. He narrowly avoids the knife as it tears through the shoulder of his shirt and embeds in the door behind him. With that being the focus, she takes this chance. Releasing her hold on Lord Beaumont she quickly sprints out through a different door she noted from earlier.

The two men gawk at each other for a second. Drake speaks up first.  
“What the fuck was that!?”  
“How would I know!? She wouldn’t let me ask!” Maxwell replied in a high panicked voice. He moved his hand up to touch his neck where the blade had cut him. Looking at his finger there was a small drop of blood.  
“Drake? Am I going to die?”  
Drake rolled his eyes.  
“Shut up.” Just as he finished his sentence, he had a panicked thought.  
“Shit, Liam!!” He took off running towards his friends’ study, Maxwell in tow. Before getting far, Maxwell turns around, reopens the kitchen door, and looks at the knife sticking out of it. Without much thought, he pulls the knife out, after a few good tugs. He tucks it in his pocket and chases after Drake.

When Drake gets there, he doesn’t knock. He flings the door open to find Liam knocked out on the floor. Items from his desk littering the surrounding area. Drake moves quickly to Liam’s side. Kneeling beside his longtime friend. Maxwell rushes in at that moment. Standing in the doorway staring at the struggle that seemed to have taken place.  
“Is he breathing?” Maxwell asks incredulously.  
“Yeah, he’s breathing.” Drake feeling fully relived gives Liam a little shake at his shoulders.  
“Liam? Liam, wake up.” Drake taps him on the cheek a few times to alert him. Meanwhile, Maxwell is surveying the mess. Liam groans, squeezing his eyes tighter and bringing a hand to his forehead to rub at his temples.  
“Drake? What happened?” He asks wearily as he opens his eyes and begins to sit up slowly.  
“No clue. I was gonna ask you.” He says as he helps his friend stand.  
“Hey guys! There is something here!” Maxwell states. The other two men join him at the desk. In the middle of the few remaining items is a folded piece of paper. Being held down with yet another knife, stabbed through it and into the wooden desk below.  
Drake pulls the knife out easily while Liam picks up the paper. Maxwell takes the knife from Drake and sticks it in his other pocket while Liam silently reads the note.  
“Well? What does it say?” Drake anxiously asks. Liam places the paper open on the desk for all eyes. Simply written it says, “The crown will fall.”


	3. Aftershock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What just happened? And who are these beautiful ladies? ;)

The three men stand in stunned silence for a few beats before Drake decides to pipe up.  
“Did she say anything to you Liam?”  
“No, nothing. She was completely silent during our ordeal.”  
“What even was your ordeal? How did she get the better of you?” Despite the seriousness of the situation Drake couldn’t help but add a little tease to his tone. Leaning on his desk Liam drops his head to recall the event.  
“I heard a knock on the door. So, I answered it and …” He took a deep breath, loudly exhaling before continuing.

20 minutes ago …

The door opened; this was step three. Unfortunately, this door was the only way into the King’s study other than the window. She chose the route inside, so it was her only option. She had to be direct, having him open the door gave her the advantage. He is not expecting anyone to attack him this way. Plus, he will be in an open area for her to strike quicker. Before he has time to register who is at the door the bottom of her boot collides with his solar plexus. He flies backward colliding with his desk trying desperately to gasp for air. She strides in, shutting the door behind her. As he struggles to breathe, she does a series of blows to the sides of his ribcage. Eventually, he gets his arms down in defensive mode protecting his ribs. She takes that moment to pull out another knife. Seeing the knife, Liam quickly reacts. Grabbing her wrist, she spins her head facing him then headbutts him. His grip loosens but not enough for her to free her hand. She does however have enough wiggle room to fling the blade into the air. Liam sees it soar up and goes to reach for it with his other hand when pain surges from his ribs. His arm drops immediately while his other hand quickly lets go of her wrist to cradle his chest. She plucks the blade out of the air but before she gets too far Liam has recovered and is on her again. Struggling together for half a minute Liam pins her against his desk. She inches herself up, fully sitting on the desk. Leaning back slightly she pulls him down lower. She ceases her moment and wraps her legs around his chest and squeezes. The pain shoots through him as he abandons his attempt for the knife and focuses on the legs locked in place around him. Groaning in pain he struggles to unlock her grip. Allowing her the chance to take one good swing. Knowing his head still hurt from the headbutt and the constriction around his chest had him lightheaded, she leaned back on her left forearm and raised her right hand. Balling it into a fist she pulled back and pushed her whole upper half as her fist collided with his cheekbone. As she struck, she released her leg hold and Liam dropped to the floor. Still sitting on the desk, she took a moment to breathe. Remembering he had two idiot friends probably making their way over, she pulled out the note. Clearing the middle on the desk, she set the note down and thrust the knife down into the solid wood. She moved over to the window and peered out. It overlooked the gardens; she could see a couple of guards but believed she could get into the shrubs before they noticed. Popping open the window, she hopped out and disappeared.

Present time …

“… I have no clue what she did after I passed out. She could have gone through my desk for all I know. I do suspect she jumped out the window since it wasn’t open before.” Liam rubbed his head. He had the worse headache imaginable. Maxwell walked over to the window. Tentatively peering out, expecting her to still be there and attack him. He relaxes when nothing happens.  
“Liam there are a couple of guards out there. Maybe they saw something?” Maxwell suggested.  
“I’m going to have to have the entire night staff questioned. But I am going to ask you both to stay quiet about this. I don’t want to frighten anyone.”  
“No problem Li. But, how serious do you think this is?” Drake pondered the note.  
“By her fighting style, I would guess it can be very serious.” Liam understood she meant business and that his life was in her hands earlier. Something he hopes to prevent in the future.  
“But why not kill you when she had the chance. After you went unconscious, she totally could have but instead just left a note? What kind of assassin doesn’t assassin?” Maxwell rambled.  
“Good question. Though I’m sure it won’t be long until we get an answer to that.” Liam answered solemnly. 

Somewhere in the capitol …

She storms through the door, making her way down the hallway. She was irate, why was it so difficult to have up-to-date information? Turning the corner, she reaches her destination. Pushing through the doors where two ladies reside, she pulls her mask off.  
“What the fuck was that!?” She couldn’t keep her irritation out of her voice. She turns to a woman tapping the keys on a computer. A beautiful brunette, her long hair draped over her shoulders. A bronzed-skinned, curvy woman who dressed very casually in jeans and a white tee-shirt. She looked over at the angry woman unperturbed.  
“A job well done?”  
“Are you serious right now, Savannah? I shouldn’t have run into anyone. Lord Beaumont was not even supposed to be there!” Riley exasperated. Savannah didn’t answer, she just focuses back on her typing.  
Savannah is a technologically advanced cybercriminal. She was raised by her father, her mother passing away giving birth to her. They were a low-income household, with her father having two full-time jobs but still barely making ends meet. She excelled in school but had few friends. Her spare time was spent in the local library. She had a fascination with computers since she was six years old. The library was the only place she had access to one. She quickly learned the internet was an easy way to trick unsuspecting people into sending her money. At an even quicker rate, she realized there was a way to sneak into people’s private information. Without the knowledge of these people, she would siphon money out of an account and work it through a complicated series of networks eventually landing it into a safe place that she could then retrieve from. She told her father she took a part-time job to help him pay for them both. She got herself her own laptop that she hid from her father. When the authorities got wind of suspicious activates coming from her home IP, she knew she had to leave. At fourteen, she left her father a note explaining she had to leave and not search for her. It said she would keep in touch and continue to help support him and that she loved him dearly. They wrote to each other through letters only. He begged for an explanation as to why she was doing what she was doing on multiple occasions but she always refused to tell him. She moved around through different countries for the next few years. She stayed in the UK for a time, even stayed in Paris for a year. She came back to Cordonia when she learned her father passed away of stress cardiomyopathy, otherwise known as broken heart syndrome. She knew he worked longer and harder after she left, probably to keep his mind occupied and not on her whereabouts. She could only send him small amounts without being noticed. After his death she got creative. She toppled multiple corrupt companies, all while seizing some of their assets for herself. She was twenty when she joined the team, making her the youngest in the group, but likely the smartest.  
She wasn’t one to argue, she knew it was pointless.  
“In her defense, Riley, you did not turn on your earpiece.” Piped up the other woman standing on the other side of the room. A tall, lithe woman in a long, open-shoulder floral pink dress. Her wavy brown hair flowed over her shoulder and down her back. She was standing by a display wall of plants she had created, misting the leaves lightly.  
“I shouldn’t have had to. Someone could have come by before I left and said something. I wanted concentration this time.” Riley was already tired of the conversation.  
“What Hana means is you’re a control freak, but we have your back. You just like to shut us out at the most inconvenient of times.”  
“But you did exactly what you went for. You had a minor speed bump but nothing you couldn’t handle.” Hana said positively.   
Hana was an interesting person. She was born in Shanghai, China to a wealthy couple. Her mother comes from a minor Cordonian noble house and her father is a wealthy businessman. They pinned everything on Hana from a young age as she was their only child. She was forced into whatever lessons her mother wanted her to do. It was all only for her to make a suitable match someday. She grew up extremely sheltered because of this. Her disdain towards her mother began to grow as she got older. It took a devious turn when she learned about different poisons. Secretly she would read book after book of chemicals and biological poisons. Learning the attributes, toxicity, and symptoms. At the age of nineteen, she went into the kitchen while the servers were away and put liquefied daphne berries into one of the bowls. This bowl was served to her mother, effectively poisoning her. Her father assumed it was one of the servers or chefs, she was never suspected. A little over a year after the passing of her mother she convinced her father to let her go to Cordonia to “Learn more about her mother’s roots.” Finally free of her parents, she continued to pursue her fascination with poisons. Through shady dealings in the underground market, she grew notoriety. Until she was recruited by the group when she was twenty-three.  
Despite her upbringing, she was extremely deceiving. In-person she was sweet, well mannered, and positive. But making her angry is the last thing anyone should do.  
“So, when do you exactly find out?” It was strange Riley didn’t get this information sooner. Savannah ceased her typing and looked at her, her eyebrows knitting together.  
“When Maxwell showed up? Exactly six minutes before you hit the palace grounds.” She began typing immediately after finishing her sentence.  
“You should have seen Olivia when we found out he showed up and couldn’t communicate it to you. I swear her head was going to explode.” Hana giggled. Just then another woman barged through the door.  
“Speak of the devil.” Savannah says dryly.  
“Hana, you summoned her!” Riley quickly moved away from the entrance closer to her friend. She was a tall, pale, skinny woman. Her vibrant red hair pinned perfectly into a bun at the top of her head. Dressed in simple black pants and a plain black shirt. She looked towards Riley and scowled. Her green eyes narrowing at the other woman.  
“Well, look who made it back from what was supposed to be a simple task.” Olivia glowered.  
“I’m not in the mood for your shit, Livvy.” Riley stated. She already went through this once. She didn’t need to explain herself to “Miss Extreme”.  
“I don’t care what you’re in the mood for. You will always have your earpiece on from now on unless we have agreed upon radio silence.”  
“You’re not my boss, Olivia. Stop trying to act like it. I don’t take orders from you. So, you can…” Riley made a shooing motion with her hand. Olivia crossed her arms over her chest and continued shooting daggers at the shorter woman.  
“That may be true, but I made him aware of your little blunder. This is what we have been building towards and you stumbled on the first task.”  
“You seriously tattled on me? I fixed the issue with no further issues. There was no reason to tell him about it.”  
“We report to him about every detail, Riley, if you haven’t forgotten. Whether good or bad, he needs to know. This could be the first of many mistakes you could make moving forward. Better to correct it now than let them happen.”  
“Are you finished? I’m going to down to the shooting range if anyone needs me.” Riley felt the need to get out of there. She turns walking past Olivia to the door.  
“I’ll join you.” Olivia says as she begins to follow.  
“Oh joooyy.” Riley draws out dryly. The pair begin their trek down the hallway, reaching an elevator stationed at the end. Riley was planning a stress-relieving activity alone but knows that if Olivia is joining, she is going to have to prepare mentally for a far more exhausting session.


End file.
